


don't be afraid; i'm yours for goodness sake

by dunkindonts



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, M/M, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-23
Updated: 2014-11-23
Packaged: 2018-02-26 16:23:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2658512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dunkindonts/pseuds/dunkindonts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The room is filled only with the sounds of their breathing, not completely in sync but close enough to be comfortable. Cas will swear up and down he doesn’t snore, but as they move farther north and the wind starts blowing snow through the air rather than leaves, there is an undeniable heaviness to his breaths, especially in sleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	don't be afraid; i'm yours for goodness sake

**Author's Note:**

> this is pointless but CUDDLES (if you have read anything else i've ever written you will notice a ~~theme~~)
> 
> title is from 'surprise, surprise' by civalias

Dean has to admit, there’s something to be said for waking up next to the same person every day. Even if that person is grumpy as fuck in the mornings, there’s something endearing about it. Something about opening his eyes to dust motes floating through the weak light from the motel window, knowing that Cas is still sprawled across him like some affectionate octopus. Their legs are crossed over each other, sheets tangled around their ankles. Cas has his palm pressed to Dean’s left shoulder, as he has done every night they’ve shared a bed, even though the original handprint is long gone.

There’s a coffee pot across the room, but Dean isn’t in much of a hurry to get up with a warm fallen angel on top of him. He drums his fingertips lightly against the jut of Cas’ hip, hums a little. Cas doesn’t open his eyes, just huffs a little indignantly and presses the tip of his cold nose harder against Dean’s collarbone, his hair brushing just under Dean’s chin. The room is filled only with the sounds of their breathing, not completely in sync but close enough to be comfortable. Cas will swear up and down he doesn’t snore, but as they move farther north and the wind starts blowing snow through the air rather than leaves there is an undeniable heaviness to his breaths, especially in sleep.

“Hey babe.” He gets an unintelligible grunt in response. “I know you’re comfortable but we gotta get up.”

“No.” The grip on his shoulder tightens and Cas snuggles in closer to his side, doing his best to sleepily box Dean in.

“Come on, buddy.”

Cas groans again and sits up, pushing harder than necessary against Dean’s chest to help himself. He fixes Dean with a glare that shouldn’t be so intimidating coming from a guy with such extreme bedhead, but he pulls it off. “Coffee.”

“I can do that.”

Within a few minutes Cas has a paper cup held carefully in his hands and all of the bed sheets wrapped loosely around his shoulders. The steam from the hot coffee blows up in his face and he wrinkles his nose. (It’s adorable as hell, but Dean can’t say that without getting glared at.) He takes one sip before shaking his head and setting it on the nightstand with a decisive “No.”

“Not up to scratch?” Dean asks, laughing softly as he slides back into bed and Cas immediately curls into his side.

“The kind you make at home is highly preferable.” Cas mumbles against his jaw.

Dean tries to ignore the way his heart jumps when Cas calls the bunker _home_. “That so?”

“Everything is better with you.” And there’s something about those words, how they come from a man who’s been around for billions and billions of years and has still chosen _Dean,_ of all people, that makes his chest feel a little tight.

His phone buzzes on the nightstand, but Dean makes no move to check it. He knows it’s Sam, telling them to get their dumb asses up and ready to go question the wife of their suspected ghost.

“You gonna get up, babe?” He whispers.

Cas mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like “five more minutes” and tucks his head under Dean’s chin. The phone vibrates again and Dean reaches to grab it with a sigh. Questioning is hardly a three person job, anyway.

**SAM:** Are you guys up? We need to go soon (9:09 AM)

**SAM:** I’m taking that as a no (9:13 AM)

**DEAN:** can u go by urself (9:14 AM)

**SAM:** Cas is still sleeping isn’t he (9:15 AM)

**SAM:** #whipped (9:15 AM)

**DEAN:** can u or can u not (9:15 AM)

**SAM:** Fine (9:17 AM)

**SAM:** Have fun spooning (9:17 AM)

**SAM:** Or whatever you guys do (9:17 AM)

**DEAN:** thx (9:18 AM)

**DEAN:** we will ;) (9:18 AM)

**SAM:** Gross, Dean (9:19 AM)

**DEAN:** ;) ;) ;) (9:20 AM)

The phone clatters a little as he sets it back down and Cas lifts his head, blinking a few times. “Do we have to go?”

“Nah,” Dean runs a hand through Cas’ hair, mussing it even further. “Sam’s got this one.”

Cas hums a little and settles back down, almost purring as Dean continues to play with his hair. It’s easy to fall into silence, into comfort. With Cas’ weight pressed against his side and the steady tandem of their breathing, Dean realizes there’s no one else he ever wants to wake up next to again.

“I love you.” He says quietly, pressing his lips to Cas’ hairline.

“I know.” Dean can’t even see Cas’ face but he knows the bastard is smiling smugly.

“Did you just Han Solo me?”

“Shhh, Dean.” Cas slowly pulls Dean’s hand off his hip, interlaces their fingers, and rests them on Dean’s chest, right above his heart. “We’re sleeping.”

Dean can’t argue with that.


End file.
